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Summary
Ha, these wolves think they’re so freaking smart. Stiles continues lounging, the picture of nonchalance as he hears his window slowly lift.
He makes pretence of heaving a pronounced long suffering sigh. “We’ve talked about this whole knocking thing remember, what if I’d been indecent? Window etiquette’s totally gone to hell this century.”
He grins pre-emptively, expecting one of Derek’s barked responses that consist mainly of ‘Shut up Stiles’ and ‘wah wah wah this is why I need you to harbour my hairy –but sexy- werewolf ass now’, they were so witty. Naturally then the dark and silky smooth retort was enough to plant Stiles face first on his floor as he yelped and flailed himself right off his bed .
“Ooh well I don’t know what sort of sordid affair you have with my nephew but I would’ve thought indecency was kind of the point.”
- or where Peter climbs through Stiles window one night: banter and hilarity ensues.
